Code Geass: Richard of the Reprisal
by RoyalPsycho
Summary: The year is 2041 atb and the world has been at war for a year. With the Holy Britannian Empire on the brink of annihilation, the crown prince, Richard Beaumont Il Britannia, may rise to the occasion and bring peace back to a world that has abandoned it; or crush it once and for all and return the world to cruelty and chaos. Post R2 story.


**Prologue-End Of False Peace:**

 **2040 Ascensio Thronem Britannicae:**

It was a beautiful, warm summer day in the San Francisco County of the Holy Britannian Empire. A surprisingly cool breeze was blowing in from the Pacific, providing a refreshing relief from the summer heat but not chilling the residents of the county. Leaves rustled pleasantly and flower heads danced as the wind picked them up and moved them back and forth as the sun shone overhead in a sky bereft of all but the thinnest wisps of cloud. It was, altogether a perfect and idyllic day.

Nunnally Vi Britannia, 101st Empress of Britannia smiled as she looked up at the sky and let out a small, relaxed sigh. She was currently sat in a massive and lush garden, surrounded by greenery that had responded to the incoming breeze by dancing in front of her eyes. The entire display, as well as the sensation of the wind washing gently over her body and the myriad scents in the air reminded her of days long since gone by. They were happy days to her, each and every one, and she was more than grateful for any reminders. For a moment, she felt tears well in her eyes as the memories began to remind her that those days were gone and nothing would bring them back but Nunnally shut her eyes and shook her head a little to rid her mind of them.

Opening her eyes again she looked back around the garden. It was a vast and well managed estate, carefully tended flowerbeds lined along cobblestone avenue that led down to a bridge that crossed a ring stream surrounding an island. On the island was an elegant marble gazebo that held white flower-troughs filled with beautiful blooms of countless colours. Beyond the stone paths and the gazebo were vast lawns that were only broken by the almost invisible plates that covered the fold-away sprinklers that kept the landscape so green and healthy. In the distance, obscuring the vast walls that separated the estate from the outside world, were tall trees that formed a veritable forest that Nunnally knew went on for at least a mile before reaching the border.

In the other direction was an expansive, white mansion. It was built in the popular, Californian neo-Classical fashion, combining ancient Mediterranean features with American colonial architecture to produce a design that the aristocracy still considered timeless. The mansion was vast, countless annexes expanding the main household into a great sprawling complex of rooms, hallways and galleries. The only things that marred the old aesthetic of the building were the photovoltaic panels that coated the roofs of the outermost annex buildings and the large garage that had two Rolls-Royce cars parked in front of it. Atop a long pole that stuck out of the large entranceway structure was the flag of the empire, fluttering proudly in the breeze as it overlooked everything around it.

The entire estate was a sign of wealth, power and privilege as it sat in the middle of a region far too arid to naturally support it but the extravagance was a welcome one. Nunnally loved gardens, even to this day. A smile once again appeared on her face but there was still a touch of melancholy to the expression.

'Are you alright, your Majesty?' a kind, mature voice asked.

Nunnally turned to see a tall, broad shouldered man, only a few years older than her, dressed in white trousers and a similarly coloured dress shirt covered by a royal blue, tailed longcoat walked up to her. His face was framed by a trimmed beard and moustache and his brown, shoulder length hair had thin muttonchops that connected with his facial hair growing down them. He wore a natural smile under the hair and walked with a measured but friendly step as he approached.

'Oh it's nothing Arthur,' Nunnally replied, giving a more genuine smile to the man. 'And please, call me Nunnally. We're not in public right now.'

Arthur Macmorris was the Count of San Francisco and a long-time supporter of Nunnally's reign. After his family had survived the aristocratic purges of Emperor Lelouch, Arthur had regained his noble title and positions in return for supporting Nunnally's ascension as empress. She had learnt over the years that he had genuinely followed her and worked to set an example for the rest of the noble class, whether they were reinstated traditionalists or uplifted 'new bloods'.

'I'm sorry, Nunnally,' he said, chuckling a little as he finally walked up to her side and put his hands behind his back. 'It's an old habit by this point I'm afraid.'

'Oh, I couldn't imagine why,' Nunnally said in response rolling her eyes a little. A part of Arthur setting an example for the nobility had involved giving Nunnally the respect she was due and addressing her properly at all times.

'Yes, well I was just wondering if you were alright,' Arthur continued, visibly relaxing his stance. 'You looked a little out of sorts just a moment ago.'

'Oh, it's nothing,' Nunnally waved his concerns off with a smile. 'I was just reminiscing.' She then paused and looked out over the state, taking in the sights once again. 'I really do love your garden.'

'Thank you,' Arthur said with his own grateful smile. 'Rachel is quite proud of it.'

'Yes,' Nunnally replied somewhat offhandedly at the mention of Arthur's wife. 'Where is she?'

'Where do you think?' Arthur chuckled. 'Keeping an eye on our two charges.'

Nunnally said nothing but did giggle a little. Lady Macmorris was a woman who worried incessantly about every minor detail and was meticulous in her approach to keeping order. Whilst it was useful on occasion, such as the management of the estate, it did make her difficult to deal with. Nunnally didn't like spending much time with her if she could help it, the woman's habits being very aggravating and if there was one thing that could keep her out of Nunnally's hair, it was the matter that Arthur had just brought up.

'Do you think we should go join them?' she asked, the question largely rhetorical. They would have had to deal with the issue soon enough.

'It's probably for the best that we do,' Arthur agreed, his moustache twitching as the edges of his mouth rose a little higher. 'Shall we?'

Together the two of them set off back down the path towards the mansion. Nunnally noticed Arthur was pacing himself so that he didn't get ahead of her. The electric wheelchair she had was a state of the art device, featuring everything the designers had decided she needed to remain comfortable, from memory foam cushioning to a built-in seat heater. It was also connected to her personal phone's network and had a few artfully hidden compartments to keep small items within. All of this was built within a chassis crafted to look like an elegant, stately throne. Like the mansion, it was a display of extravagance but a necessary one and Nunnally had come to terms with it long ago. Even she had to admit, the device was awfully convenient.

The path soon branched off, another cobblestone avenue leading around the mansion in a ring. Nunnally turned right, Arthur walking just a step behind her as he too followed the pathway.

'I haven't visited the capital in some time,' Arthur suddenly said. 'I hear the news is bad though.'

The statement hung in the air around them. Nunnally knew he was fishing for an opinion, her own, specifically. The actual facts were easy enough to come by, everyone else's opinions even easier but the empress' thoughts on the matter were rare and more valuable than anything else in the empire.

'It's...' Nunnally tried to find the words to convey how she felt. So many immediately came to mind but she didn't want to admit anything too personal, not even to a friend. 'It's very difficult right now. The UFN has been making worse and worse accusations against us. Now they're claiming _I'm_ personally funding rebels in their territory. More and more people are starting to panic and they're laying all of their problems at my feet. This is the closest thing I'm likely to get to a vacation for months if it doesn't improve.'

'I'm sorry to hear that,' Arthur said in response, remorse in his tone. Nunnally glanced at him to see he felt genuinely contrite for forcing such a topic on her. 'I knew things were bad but I didn't think it would come to this.'

'We can only hope it will improve,' Nunnally replied with a sigh, forcing her voice to sound like she believed her own words.

Truthfully, she felt crushed under the weight of the growing crisis. Relations between Britannia and the UFN had never been worse and at the rate everything was going, there could be open war. She had already authorised several decrees to begin mobilising and expanding the military years ago and weapons research that had been mothballed long ago was now being dusted off and restarted. The world her brother had built was unravelling and she, with all of her power, was failing to keep it together.

'The nerve of the UFN,' Arthur declared, his tone angry but still steady and formal. 'To accuse you of funding terrorists. How many summits have they refused to meet? How many proposals have they unreasonably shot down? To say that we're the aggressors? It's unacceptable.'

'I know,' Nunnally admitted after a lengthy pause. 'I've been contacting some old friends in the UFN for some time, though. With any luck cooler heads will take over the discussions and we can move on from this ugly chapter.'

'Well just know that I will be behind you every step of the way if it should,' Arthur said, giving a supportive nod.

'Thank you,' Nunnally said with a smile, her spirits rising once again. She then turned to look straight ahead. 'Speaking of things I hope you'll be behind; it looks like we've found the others.'

In front of them was a large, round opening in the garden. The ground was paved and surrounded by beautiful flowerbeds that enclosed the space, carefully sculpted hedgerows arrayed behind them, separating the area from the lawns. In the centre of the space was another white, stone gazebo. It was a massive structure, spreading out in a wide circle with several Corinthian designed pillars supporting the massive, gleaming dome. Statues of angels, nymphs and Valkyries were situated on plinths in front of every pillar, looking out into the surroundings.

Standing between two of the pillars was a thin woman with light blonde hair. She was dressed in an extravagant, blue gown with silvery white lining along the hem and the sleeves. Unlike most aristocratic dresses and gowns the neckline was high and conservative but accentuated by a thin, silk shawl that was designed to appear like bird wings that wrapped around the woman's neck in an embrace. An impassive expression was on her face and she had her hands clasped down by her waist as she held a steady gaze into the gazebo.

'Rachel,' Arthur called out to his wife as he approached, raising his arm and waving to her as she turned around.

Lady Rachel Macmorris turned at the sound of her husband's voice and gave him a small, polite smile. 'Arthur,' she said in a formal tone with a hint of warmth under it. 'Your Majesty. I'm so glad you could join us.'

'I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner,' Nunnally said as she rolled up to the gazebo. 'I just needed a moment alone.'

'Of course,' Rachel said in response, bowing her head a little. 'I understand perfectly, your Majesty.'

'Please, call me Nunnally. I'm a guest here,' Nunnally replied, smiling at the other woman. Whilst she wasn't overly fond of Lady Macmorris, there still wasn't any reason to be impolite with her.

'Of course,' Rachel repeated, her tone remaining impassive. Nunnally tried not to frown in disappointment. It was clear that she wasn't going to get away with being relaxed around the woman.

'So how are the children?' Arthur then spoke up, redirecting the conversation.

'Everything is going very well, Arthur,' Rachel replied. 'See for yourself.'

In the middle of the gazebo was a table and several chairs and seated in two of them, across from one another, were a young man and woman. The man seemed barely out of his teens, was tall and slender and dressed in a pure black dress-suit with a white waistcoat and deep burgundy ascot over the top. He also wore a blue, tailed longcoat that was gold along the lining of the hem and sleeves. His hair was light brown and grew out in a series of artfully styled locks that ended at the nape of his neck and his eyes were amber.

The girl across from him, meanwhile, was petite and seemed younger though Nunnally knew she was the same age as the boy. She had a beautifully round face with brilliant green eyes and a naturally superior and demure look to her features. As well as long, light blonde hair that framed her face and grew halfway down her back, undecorated and allowed to flow free, the only thing restraining them being a black headband with a large ruby inlaid in the centre that kept it swept back and away from her forehead. Like Lady Macmorris she wore a blue and silver gown with an identical bird-wing shawl over her shoulders.

Both of them were the entire reason the visit to the Macmorris estate had taken place. The young woman was Claire Macmorris, Arthur and Rachel's daughter and heiress to San Francisco and the young man was Richard Beaumont Il Britannia, crown prince of the empire and Nunnally's nephew. The conversation they were having and the trip were being made for one important reason; their betrothal.

'They seem to be getting along,' Arthur observed as he watch the two youths talk leisurely, a pot of tea and several teacups on the table between them.

'It has been proceeding properly,' Rachel added. 'I instructed Claire to be careful with how she presented herself before the prince.'

'You haven't been looming over them the entire time, have you dear,' Arthur said with a chuckle. He wasn't admonishing his wife but there was a hint of – less than serious – accusation in his tone.

'I have only been present as a capable chaperone should be,' Rachel answered, a hint of offense in her voice.

'You should give them a little freedom to act normally with one another,' Nunnally said with a little laugh. 'They are getting engaged after all.'

'If you say so, Nunnally,' Rachel answered a little uncomfortably.

'I do,' Nunnally replied with a smile. 'I'm sure they'll both get along but we should ease them into this.'

'Oh definitely,' Arthur agreed, chuckling heartily and grinning as he looked at his daughter. 'They will probably get along famously. My daughter is as sharp as a rapier and his Highness is certainly a gentleman. Give them more time and this will assuredly be a wonderful union.'

'Indeed,' Rachel agreed though her tone lacked his natural enthusiasm.

Nunnally nodded in agreement but she suddenly felt deflated. For a moment she looked at the young man sitting across from her, chatting amiably with the Macmorris heiress and frowned. Nunnally had no idea when exactly she had become comfortable with planning a person's life in this fashion but it had all felt so easy. In that instant, as she looked at her nephew, she wished something that hadn't crossed her mind for many years; she wished that her life had not gone this way.

"Big brother," Nunnally thought as the face of her brother, Lelouch Vi Britannia, came to her mind. The term sounded childish but it was how she had known him, right up until his death.

Her eyes had only recovered a few months before he was gone and so many memories of his face were of the twisted smirk, of arrogance, the expressions of a man who had fallen into corruption and madness but that wasn't the face that came to mind. The last she remembered of Lelouch was him lying, on the verge of death and rapidly fading away yet with a look of content happiness as he offered her the peaceful world she had wished for at the expense of his life and the memories the world would hold of him.

'Are you alright, Nunnally?' Arthur's voice cut through her melancholy musings.

'I'm sorry, Arthur,' Nunnally said as she blinked away a few tears that had begun to well in her eyes. 'I was just remembering some things.'

'Well I apologise if I interrupted you,' Arthur replied. 'I just wondered if you would like us to go and join the children? Maybe see how they're getting along?'

'That would be nice,' Nunnally answered.

She was just about to begin wheeling forward when several men ran into the gazebo. They were dressed in grey uniforms with royal red sashes over their chest, short black capes around their shoulders and black stove-pipe helmets on their heads, crowned by golden crests. Several had concerned expressions on their faces but most remained professional and stoic, despite their hurried paces.

'The Imperial Guard?' Arthur questioned as the trio froze. Several of the guardsmen had peeled off and were approaching them.

'Your Majesty,' one of the guardsmen said. 'Please come with us.'

'What's going on?' Nunnally asked, frowning at the man. 'Where's Captain Miller?'

'Over here, your Majesty,' a gruff voice answered. Nunnally peered past the guardsman who had first spoken to see a tall, broad man dressed in the same uniform walk into the gazebo. 'Secure his Highness and her Majesty,' he then turned to her as he walked calmly forward. 'I'm terribly sorry, you Majesty but there's been a communication from Philadelphia and we must leave, now.'

Nunnally saw several guards walk up to Richard and gently pull him away from the table. Her nephew shot them a questioning gaze but quickly nodded his head and gave what looked like an apology to Claire Macmorris as he was ushered away.

'Miller,' Nunnally said to the captain as he finally stood in front of her, 'what's going on?'

'I'm afraid I can't disclose that until we are in your transport,' Captain Miller replied. 'Please, your Majesty, we must leave now.'

Nunnally sighed as, once again, the wider world barged back into her life. 'Very well, captain.'

'Thank you, your Majesty,' Captain Miller said. 'The transport is fuelled and waiting at the front gate. We must move quickly.' He then turned to the Macmorrises and bowed. 'My Lord. My Lady.'

'Captain,' Arthur and Claire responded respectfully. They had not really met the man but etiquette required they respect him in matters concerning the empress' security.

'I'm very sorry,' Nunnally said with a thin, apologetic smile as the Imperial Guard formed a protective ring around her.

'It's no problem, at all,' Arthur reassured her. 'We will probably return to court soon enough.'

'I'll look forward to it,' Nunnally said in response, her smile brightening a little.'

'Until then,' Arthur said with a graceful bow, his wife curtseying alongside him.

'Until then,' Nunnally replied as she guided her wheelchair forward, Imperial Guard surrounding her and warily eyeing the area around them.

The walk out of the estate was long, quite and uncomfortable as the professional conduct of the Imperial Guard escort mixed with the paranoia of the apparent situation. Captain Miller still refused to tell her what was happening but looked discomforted by the fact that he had to keep secrets from his empress. Nunnally looked ahead to see another ring of guardsmen, her nephew at the centre of them. The creeping, uncomfortable sensation increased when they reached the carefully organised woodland that bordered the estate's walls. Finally, after what felt like an eternity despite the somewhat hurried pace of the guardsmen, they reached a tall, Gothic, wall, a gatehouse designed like those seen on a Medieval English castle's.

Beyond it was a quintet of identical vehicles. They were royal transports, massive, two-storied personal vehicles, practically buildings on wheels that featured everything needed for comfortable transport as well as all the utilities a member of royalty needed to conduct administrative work whilst on the move. The immense, ovular cars were coloured royal purple with numerous golden decorations, rampant lions and serpents along the rim of the chassis and the flag of the Empire emblazoned on the side. Nunnally knew that despite how fragile the gaudy, pillbug-like machines appeared, every one of them was also heavily armoured and carried several retractable turrets.

'Get Her Majesty and His Highness into the transport and prepare the decoys to mobilise,' Captain Miller shouted to his men.

'Yes, my Lord,' the Guardsmen chanted as they ushered Richard and Nunnally into the middle vehicle, others running off to get the decoys moving.

The inside of the Royal Transport was, like most Britannian vehicles designed to service royalty, built with form in mind as well as function. The corridor Nunnally was now sitting in was carpeted and the walls were lit by crystal fixtures designed to look like 19th century house gas-lamps. The external door was made of artificial wood-grain and the access-panel was artfully designed to add to the Classical aesthetic, bordered by what looked like a picture-frame. On either side of the corridor were doors to rooms on the "ground floor" of the transport and at the end was a staircase with a gold capped bannister on it that bent into the wall a little as it spiralled up to the next floor of the Transport.

'Apologies, your Highness,' Captain Miller then said, addressing Richard who turned to regard him with a questioning look. 'I'm afraid this news is currently classified for her Majesty.'

Richard frowned at the man for a moment but then nodded. 'Understood,' he said in an impassive tone before bowing and walking down the corridor and up the stairs.

'This way, please, your Majesty,' Captain Miller then said once the prince was out of sight. He indicated one of the doors that led into the main study of the Transport.

Nunnally was about to move when a jolt rocked the vehicle. A moment later the Transport settled, a dulled hum telling her that they had begun moving. The Transport's suspension and specially designed, magnetically attached locosphere wheels were built to allow for smooth movement and a three-hundred and sixty degree manoeuvrability. Now that the Transport had settled, she wheeled forward and into the room, Captain Miller waiting until she had entered before following after her.

The study, unlike the rest of the Royal Transport, was one of the most modernised rooms in the entire vehicle. Plain, white walls surrounded a series of monitor displays and a desk with an interactive, glass keyboard. Various plush sofas were also arranged around the room with work desks and tables as well as a private coffee-maker. Nunnally knew she had servants to handle providing refreshments but had insisted the coffee-maker be installed for when she wanted her privacy.

'Your Majesty,' Captain Miller said after Nunnally had wheeled herself to the centre of the room. 'We will be transporting you and his Highness to the San Francisco Airport immediately for the flight back to Philadelphia.

'Tell me what's going on Miller,' Nunnally said, levelling a commanding glare at the man.

'Apologies, your Majesty,' Captain Miller sighed contritely. 'The news could not be spoken publicly.' His face then shifted into an expression of grave seriousness. 'I have just received word from Cheyenne Mountain that Black Knight forces have been spotted by surveillance satellites. They are currently moving on our territory from both sides of the Americas and are already approaching our territories in Micronesia and Newfoundland. More are predicted to mobilise within the week.'

'This… this can't be true,' Nunnally stuttered, her eyes wide in shock as the news processed.

'I'm afraid it has already been corroborated by OSI Command at Philadelphia and his Highness, Prince Schneizel has confirmed it,' Captain Miller continued, his eyes narrowing. 'He attempted to contact the United Federation of Nations' Supreme Council in Tokyo and received no reply. Our embassy in Tokyo has also gone silent.'

'You don't mean… ' Nunnally trailed off as the truth began to sink in. she couldn't believe what was happening. The world had been crumbling around her for years but now, the peace her brother had sacrificed himself for had completely died. 'This… this can't…'

'Yes, your Majesty,' Captain Miller replied, his tone as grave as his face. 'As of this moment, the UFN has officially declared war on Britannia.'

* * *

 _The date was June the 14th in the year 2040 of the Imperial Calendar. Claiming rights to retaliation for supposed Britannian support of dissident forces within the territory of the United Federation of Nations, the Black Knights, the official armed forces of the supranational entity, launched an invasion of the Holy Britannian Empire. Caught by surprise and undermanned, the Britannian forces were immediately forced to retreat, losing ground in the colonial territories of South America and even in the sacred Homeland of the empire._

 _Britannia became a nation under siege, it's people fearing the day that the Black Knights would descend upon their homes as they had those along the coasts. The once proud and mighty empire stood on the precipice of annihilation, it's armies praying for the miracle that would turn around the war._

* * *

 **Footnote:**

This is likely going to end up an AU whenever Season 3 comes out.

On a small detail June 14th was the date when the episode The Black Knights was broadcast in the English dub of Code Geass: R1, albeit in 2008. You could say that it was day that the Black Knights debuted in the English-speaking world.


End file.
